hese prayers circulated in
Brigittine manuscripts, in Latin and in English, and in
one instance even in Swedish, because it was written by a
Swedish Brigittine nun at Syon Abbey. They are often in
these manuscripts ascribed to 'a woman solitary desirous
to know Christ's wounds', and in one instance she is
named, 'Mary Oestrewyk', which is like the opening of the
Short Text of Julian of Norwich's Showing
of Love in the
Amherst Manuscript, or they are ascribed to St Birgitta
of Sweden. Their
style is decidedly not Julian of Norwich's, and indeed,
they are far more similar to Adam Easton 's Victorine mode of
thought, yet they are clearly the structuring principle of
the Long Text of the Showing of Love's
division into XVI Revelations. Evelyn Underhill was the
first to observe the association. They balance, in
Julian's Long Text, with the Marian Advent Great O
Antiphon,
'APIENTIA'.

Lord Jesus Christ, eternal delight of those
who love you, far greater than all our joys and desires,
strength and love of repentant sinners, you who said, 'My
delight is with the sons of men'. You who became man to save
them, remember what made you take on human flesh and what
you endured from the first moment of the Incarnation to the
saving time of your Passion, ordained ab aeterno in
God who is One and Three. Remember the pain in your soul
when you yourself said: 'My soul is sorrowful to the point
of death', during the last supper which you gave to your
disciples, giving them your Body and Blood as food and
drink, washing their feet and consoling them lovingly as you
foretold your impending Passion. Remember the anxiety,
distress and pain you endured in your holy Body before
mounting the scaffold of the Cross when after praying three
times to the Father in a sweat of blood, you were betrayed
by one of your disciples, taken away by your chosen people,
accused by false witnesses, unjustly sentenced to death by
three judges at the holy season of Passover; betrayed, made
to look a fool, stripped of your clothing, struck on the
face - while blindfolded - then tied to a pillar, whipped
and crowned with thorns.

Jesus, true joy of the Angels and garden of
delight, remember the horrible torments you underwent when
your enemies, who surrounded you like ferocious lions, tore
at you, hitting you, spitting at you, scratching you and
torturing you in other incredible ways. By the hurtful
words, the bitter blows and harsh afflictions of your
enemies, I beseech you to set me free from my enemies, both
visible and invisible, and grant me the protection of
eternal salvation in the shadow of your wings. Amen.

Word made flesh, all-powerful creator of the
world, who are infinite and hold the universe in the palm of
your hand, remember the bitter pain you endured when your
blessed hands and feet were fastened by sharp nails on to
the wood of the Cross. Oh, what pain you suffered when the
wicked men who crucified you tore your limbs and broke the
joints of your bones, pulling your body this way and that,
just as they pleased. By the memory of such pains endured by
you on the Cross, I beg you to allow me to love and fear you
as I ought. Amen.

Jesus, heavenly physician, remember the
suffering and pain you felt in your limbs when the Cross was
being lifted up. Your body was nothing but pain from head to
toe - but you, regardless of so much pain, offered prayers
of mercy to the Father on behalf of your enemies, saying:
'Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are
doing'. By your boundless charity and mercy and by the
memory of your sufferings allow me to remember your precious
Passion so that it may bring me full remission for all my
sins. Amen.

Jesus, mirror of eternal brightness,
remember your affliction when, although you could see it
would be the destiny of so many of your chosen ones to be
saved through your Passion, you still foresaw how many would
not benefit from it. Thus, by the profound mercy you showed
not only when you grieved over the lost and hopeless, but
also in your compassion towards the repentant thief when you
said: 'Today you will be with me in paradise', I ask you in
your mercy, Jesus, to show me that same compassion at the
hour of my death. Amen.

Jesus, amiable King, remember your sorrow
when, as you hung naked and despised on the Cross, the only
one of your friends and acquaintances around you who could
console you was your beloved Mother, to whom you entrusted
the disciple you loved, when you said: 'Woman, this is your
son', and to him you said: 'This is your mother'. Merciful
Jesus, by that sword of grief which pierced her soul, I beg
you trustfully to have compassion on me in all my bodily and
spiritual afflictions and tribulations; console me by your
assistance and joy in every trial and adversity. Amen.

Lord Jesus Christ, source of never-ending
tenderness, moved by intense love you said on the Cross, 'I
thirst', in your urgent desire for the salvation of the
human race. Arouse in us, we pray, a love of perfection, to
quell our desire for sinful pleasure and worldly happiness.
Amen.

Lord Jesus Christ, the heart's delight and
the mind's sweetness, by the bitterness of the vinegar and
gall you tasted on our behalf as you were dying, pardon us
poor sinners always, but especially at the hour of our
death, so that we may worthily eat your Body and drink your
Blood, for the healing and consolation of our souls. Amen.

Lord Jesus Christ, joy of our mind,
remember the anguish and pain you suffered when, through the
bitterness of death and the insult of the Jews, you cried
out to your Father: 'Eloi, Eloi, lama sabacthani', which
means 'My god, my god, why have you forsaken me?' And so I
ask you, my Lord and my God, not to forsake me at the hour
of my death. Amen.

Lord Jesus Christ, the beginning and end of
our love, you held back no part of yourself when you
immersed yourself into the sea of suffering; I beg you, by
the breadth and depth of your wounds, to help me live a life
of perfection with true charity in accordance with your law
and commandments. Amen.

Lord Jesus Christ, who are the depths of
pity and mercy, I ask you, by the depth of your wounds,
which went deep inside you after piercing your flesh and
bones, to raise me up, sunk as I am in my sins, and hide me
in the hollow of your wounds.Amen.

Jesus Christ, mirror of truth, sign of
unity and bond of charity, call to mind the countless wounds
which covered your Body, torn by the wicked Jews and stained
red by your own Precious Blood. Graciously inscribe your
wounds on my heart with that same blood so that, as I
meditate on your sorrow and love, the pain of your suffering
may be renewed in me every day, love may increase and I may
persevere in continually thanking you until the end of my
life; or, rather, until I come to you full of the goodness
and merit you saw fit to give me from the treasure-house
which is your Passion. Amen.

Lord Jesus Christ, strongest lion, immortal
and invincible king, remember the pain you felt when all the
strength had gone from your Body and Heart and, bowing your
head, you said: 'It is finished'. So I beg you, with such
anxiety and pain, to have mercy on me at the end of my life,
when my soul will be troubled with the terror of agony. Amen.

Jesus Christ, only-begotten Son of the
Father on high, whose glory and image you are, remember the
humble prayer with which you gave up your spirit, saying:
'Father, into your hands I commend my spirit'. Then, bowing
your head and opening your heart in mercy to redeem us, with
a loud cry you breathed your last. By this most precious
death I beg you, King of the Saints, to give me strength to
resist the devil, the world and the flesh, so that I may die
to the world and live to you, and in my final hour you may
receive my spirit, eager to return home after its long exile
and pilgrimage. Amen.

Lord Jesus Christ, the true and fruitful
vine, remember how abundantly your blood flowed when you had
bowed your head on the Cross and Longinus pierced your side,
from where the last drops of blood and water came out; so
that every drop was drained leaving you like a bundle of
myrrh hung on high, the delicate flesh gone, the liquor
dried up, the marrow of your bones lost. By this bitter
Passion I beg you, dear Jesus, to wound my heart so that,
night and day, I may shed tears to make loving amends:
convert me totally to you so that you may always dwell in my
heart, my conversation be always pleasing and acceptable to
you, and the end of my life be worthy of praise. Then may I
praise you eternally with all the Saints. Amen.